The Grass Is Always Greener
by happyday girl
Summary: Faced with a free afternoon, the Inseparables decide to have a picnic in a field before heading home- however before the day is over D'artagnan faces a childhood fear, Athos laments his choice of friends, Porthos has never laughed so much, and Aramis makes a new friend (ish.) My first entry to the Fete des Mousquetaires competition for August- Rest and Relaxation.


**Hello- as I said in the summary, this is my first ever entry to the Fete des Mousquetaires monthly writing competition- this month's theme is rest and relaxation. They are always so many great entries, so I thought I'd give it a shot!**

 **Onwards!**

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'Don't you come from a farming family?' Porthos asked, before he snorted into the silence they slowly came to a stop- he withheld a laugh as he received a dirty look in reply.

'Just because I grew up on a farm does not mean I have to like...them...' D'artagnan muttered uneasily, brow furrowed as he looked upon the scene in front of them.

'What? Cows?' Aramis grinned, leaning forwards on his horse and stroking her mane as the four Musketeers sat on their horses on the outskirts of a large circular field, currently occupied by about twenty slowly grazing cattle.

'Not cows.' D'artagnan corrected through gritted teeth. 'Bulls.'

Athos sighed to himself as Porthos barked out the laugh he had been keeping in ever since the Gascon had halted his horse as soon as they entered the field, his wide eyes locked on the cattle moving up and down the field. Aramis also chuckled atop his horse, but he looked across to D'artagnan with a little concern as the younger man visibly shuddered.

'Why are you so afraid of them?' he asked, trotting up to come next to him- D'artagnan turned to him with wide eyes, shaking his head before looking to see if any of the bulls had noticed the sudden movement.

'Don't move too fast!' he admonished, shaking his head. 'They might get nervous!'he added, before nodding his head at them as Aramis stopped his horse. 'Look at them, why aren't you afraid of them?'

Porthos chuckled again, whistling to get Aramis' attention. 'He means don't _moo_ ve!' he grinned as Aramis turned round, mouth pursed as he fought to suppress a smile of his own.

The Gascon also turned, a glare on his face that only resulted in Porthos laughing further as he too moved round before he came to a stop on D'artagnan's other side. 'What's the matter, lad?' he chided good-naturedly. 'They're just minding their own business!'

Again, D'artagnan ignored the comment, instead looking to Athos as their leader got off his horse and walked a few paces so he was in front of his friends. 'Do we have to go through this field?' he asked, feeling heat rise into his cheeks. 'We've finished the mission Treville gave us in good enough time- we can afford to take the long way home, surely?'

Athos considered as he turned round and took in the field himself. It was the quickest way back to Paris, but he could see by the lad's face that he really wouldn't enjoy passing through the field with its beefy occupants. Before he could open his mouth to agree with D'artagnan's suggestion that they should find an alternative route, Aramis' stomach decided to give the loudest growl he had ever heard. The man to whom the stomach belonged chuckled and patted his tummy with a sigh. 'Lunch time, I believe!' he announced, hopping form his horse, Porthos following suit.

'What? Here?' D'artagnan muttered, voice uncharacteristically high in tone as he watched the two men delve into the food pack for the rations they had saved for the trip back.

'No time like the present!' Porthos muttered.

'Don't worry, those bulls are all the way on the other side of the field- they won't bother us if we don't bother them!' Aramis added, hands full with packs of food. 'Anyone got a picnic blanket?'

Athos sighed to himself again as he watched D'artagnan shoot a panicked glanced in the direction of the bulls, before he seemed to reassure himself that the animals were indeed quite a way from them, and he too got off his horse and began sorting out the food along with the other two.

The four of them spent a leisurely hour or so eating and drinking the last of their food and wine, and as the mid-morning dissolved into a balmy afternoon they amused themselves by playing cards and stretching out on the long grass, happy to be in each other's company without a task or deadline to abide by; they had no mission for the rest of the day, which gave them some unexpected free time to do as they pleased.

Aramis smiled to himself as he watched D'artagnan look across the field every so often, just to check the bulls were still on their half of the field, and not encroaching onto their little patch of grass.

'So, come on- why do you hate bulls so much?' he enquired, leaning back on his arms and pushing his hat down so the glare didn't blind him.

D'artagnan looked round, as if the offending bovine beasts might be right behind him- he gave the other man a small, embarrassed smile as he sat back, before shrugging. 'I've never really liked them- they're just huge and muscly and scary looking...' he felt heat rise into his face again as Porthos, who was lying on his back, shielding his eyes from the sun, chuckled.

'When I was about six I was out in the farm with my father, and I wandered off.' he went on, picking at the grass idly as he recounted the memory. 'I was by a small clump of trees and as I turned the corner I found myself face to face with about four huge bulls. I remembered what my Father had said about acting big and threatening to they would go away, but I couldn't make myself big enough...' he sighed, snapping the head off a buttercup as he looked up at Aramis. 'They chased me around the field for about five minutes before my Father managed to get them under control. I'd never been more scared, and I refused to go near them ever since.'

Aramis whistled under his breath, a fond smile on his face as D'artagnan shrugged and took a bite from his apple.

'Bless, and you were only six?' he asked chuckling lightly. 'I would be scared now if four full-grown bulls chased me around a field!'

'Exactly!' D'artagnan chuckled, the heat leaving his face as he started to see the funny side.

The four of them them spent a few minutes in a contended silence, before each of them, full with good food and even better wine, began dozing in the afternoon heat, not a care in the world.

Athos was the first to awaken, suddenly conscious of the fast-approaching evening; he sat up, before jumping a little as he came face to face with a huge black bull.

'Ah.' he muttered, before nodding at the animal and giving it a small smile. 'Afternoon.' He muttered, to which the bull did not reply, but merely carried on grazing alongside the eight or so other bulls that had now surrounded them whilst they had been sleeping.

'Aramis...' he whispered, very aware that their resident Gascon was still snoozing happily in the shade of a bush, none the wiser of the current bovine invasion that was taking place. 'Aramis!' he whispered again, more urgently this time.

Aramis woke with a contented sigh, sitting up and rubbing his eyes like a princess from a fairy-tale. His eyes widened as he saw the bulls slowly moving around, picking at the long grass around the four of them. He reached out a hand, leaning forwards before attempting to stroke one of the large animals- he put his hand down as the bull darted backwards, bristling.

'Don't touch them, idiot!' Athos growled, rolling his eyes.

Aramis nodded with a smile. 'Duly noted!' he replied, before looking around with a sigh. 'No one is wearing red, are they?'

'I bloody hope not..' Athos muttered as he started to gather his things. 'Aramis- do you know what time it is?'

'No?' Aramis replied, frowning.

'Time to _moo_ ve on!' the swordsman deadpanned- Aramis snorted at that, before both men looked round as Porthos also sat up, looking around.

'Ooh, bulls!' he noted, to which Aramis snorted and Athos rolled his eyes again.

'What should we do about d'artagnan?' Aramis muttered, before he saw his question was soon to be answered, as the Gascon in question stirred and slowly sat up, wiping bleary eyes.

'Hey guys, what time is...' his question hung, unanswered, in the air as he looked beyond his three friends, and to the group of bulls behind them.

'Now D'artagnan, I don't want you to panic.' Aramis muttered, voice low. 'They're just eating, see!'

The younger man stiffened, eyes wide. To illustrate the point that the bulls meant no harm, Aramis stood up, sending the two or three bulls nearest to him scattering back a little.

'See- just ignore them and they won't do you any harm!' he smiled, before he looked uneasily to his left, where a huge, muscle-laden white bull stood, quite unabashed by the medic. It breathed out harshly through his nose, snorting loudly as it stepped forwards.

'Now now, we're just leaving, alright?' Aramis muttered to it, giving it what he hoped with a reassuring smile, as if bulls could understand that sort of thing. The bull stepped forwards, snorting again. 'Aren't we, gentlemen?' Aramis added, as if involving the others would calm the beast.

Athos nodded, the three of them standing up and depositing their things back onto their packs as Aramis turned to the white bull, arms outstretched.

'I'm not scared of you!' he warned, before taking a step back as the bull's black, beady eyes bored into his own.

'Is that why your voice is wavering and your knees are knocking?' Porthos called to him, chuckling. 'I've seen you less scared when faced with an army!'

'Shut it!' Aramis replied, eyes still locked onto the bulls, which, on hindsight, probably wasn't the best thing to do. 'How am I supposed to make him go away?!'

'Try and make yourself bigger than him!' Athos replied from atop his horse. He held Aramis' horse's reigns tightly in his hands, before watching as Aramis put his hands up in an attempt to intimidate the creature.

This course of action seemed to have the opposite effect on the bull, who seemed to take this as some sort of challenge.

'No, bad idea, bad idea..' Aramis muttered, a small, high-pitched nervous laugh escaping him as he backed off, the bull following, snorting wildly. 'Perhaps this is the daddy bull?'

D'artagnan looked round, studying the animals a bit closer- 'Actually, the others are females...he's just protecting his girlfriends!' he called out, to which Aramis snorted.

'Oh great!' he muttered. 'Come on, farm boy- a little help?'

'Just walk over here and get on your horse, we'll go back the way we came!' Athos muttered.

'Alright...alright...' The Medic muttered, walking backwards as he slowly made his way to where the others were. His eyes widened as the bull not only continued following him, but started to pick up speed, its muscles quivering.

'It's about to charge!' he called out, hoping against hope he didn't trip. 'I can sense it!'

'Don't be so dramatic!' Athos answered, rolling his eyes.

'No, I mean it!' Aramis replied, now jogging backwards as he tried to get to the others as quickly as possible.

'Well if it does decide to charge, please lead it away from here!' D'artagnan called, shuddering.

'Piss off!' came his reply, to which Porthos guffawed.

'How about we leave the field, otherwise it might get confused and more agitated?' Athos said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

'I second that!' D'artagnan replied.

'I third it!' Porthos added with a nod.

'DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE WITH IT!' Aramis called.

'That's decided then.' Athos muttered, before he and the other two made their way back to the entrance to the field, which consisted of a large wooden gate.

'I hate you all...' Aramis muttered, as he heard them snap the gate shut behind then. 'No more shoe-polishing out of the goodness of my heart...' he added, watching as the bull continued to follow him. 'No more second rounds at the tavern...'

'Why don't you just be quiet and come this way and we can shut the gate behind you?' D'artagnan called from behind the gate. 'Or would you rather stare down that bull all night?'

'I will if I can just stop it from fo-' his voice broke off as he tripped on a large rock, sending him down onto his backside on the grass. He looked up as the bull stepped backwards, momentarily confused.

'Stay...stay...' Armais whispered to it, before he tried to get up slowly, only to fall back down as he misjudged his footing, sending him hard onto one knee before he lurched forwards as he tried to right himself.

The bull snorted before it let out an almighty bellow- Aramis was up in seconds, running as fast as he could towards the other two, eyes wide as he could sense the bull running behind him.

D'artagnan stepped to the side as he watched his friend pelt along the field before, in one fluid movement, he grasped the top of the wooden gate and vaulted over it, landing in a heap on the other side, breathing heavily.

The Gascon stepped back as he watched the bull advance; he fully expected him to charge straight through the gate, but instead he stopped in his tracks, snorting at the four of them. After a few seconds it seemed to lose interest and stepped away, head already down as it started grazing again.

Porthos laughed from his horse as Aramis sat up, rubbing at the stitch in his side. 'You alright?' he asked lightly, to which Aramis let out a few choice curses, making Porthos laugh even more.

Sighing deeply, Aramis rolled onto his back, shaking his head. 'Give me a man with a gun any day...' he muttered to the sky. A shadow fell over him, and he opened his eyes to see Athos, atop his horse, looking down at him.

'Ready to make a _moo_ ve home?' he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

'Oh yes.' Aramis nodded, sitting up. He looked across at D'artagnan, who was trying to quell a grin from his face.

'Hey, lad - if I ever make fun of you for your fears ever again, I am more than happy for you to kick me!'

'Duly noted!' D'artagnan laughed, before he grinned as Aramis closed his eyes and sighed deeply, a hand to his heart.

'I thought I was dead for sure!' he muttered to him as the four of them began their ride back to the city.

'See, I told you they were scary!' The younger man nodded. 'You'll believe the farm boy next time, won't you!' he added with a smile, before he let out an indignant noise as Aramis ruffled his hair with a laugh.

As a small fight broke out between the Medic and the Gascon, Athos rolled his eyes as he found himself, not for the first time, lamenting his choice of friends. But then again, he thought, as he watched D'artagnan attempt to push Aramis from his horse into a thorny bush, he really wouldn't have them any other way.

 **Thanks for reading, please review!**


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